


A Touch of Christmas

by princedeadend



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9003667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princedeadend/pseuds/princedeadend
Summary: Keith has never been particularly good with touch. He’s also slow to trust and even slower to open up. But it’s hard to remain on that path of solitude when you’re stuck in space fighting an alien empire with the same six people day in and day out, four of whom you depend on to keep you safe in a giant robot man made of giant robot lions. Alternatively, Lance gradually gets Keith accustomed to the physical connection he hadn't realized he'd been craving for so long.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Some of y'all may know me from my other fic [Don't Break Connection, Baby](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8321353/chapters/19057486). This is one of the side projects I've been working on.
> 
> This was a work about a month in the making in collaboration with the incredibly talented and wonderful [Evann](https://evannly.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Please enjoy this gratuitous Christmas fluff. I loved writing it.

Keith has never been particularly good with touch. He’s also slow to trust and even slower to open up. But it’s hard to remain on that path of solitude when you’re stuck in space fighting an alien empire with the same six people day in and day out, four of whom you depend on to keep you safe in a giant robot man made of giant robot lions.

And it’s not like he dislikes anyone. Well, except for maybe Lance. But that’s moreso because it’s Lance who seems to have a problem with him. It certainly doesn’t help that Lance is a pain in the ass. He’s an overconfident braggart who doesn’t know when to quit. They’ve bickered just about nonstop and it’s testing everyone’s patience and sanity.

The paladins have just successfully executed some difficult training maneuvers as a team much to the delight of the Princess. Keith’s not even out of his lion before he can hear Lance’s excited voice. He’s all jacked up on the adrenaline of victory and truthfully, Keith can feel it running in his veins as well. He doesn’t notice the tilt of his lips as he watches Hunk and Lance do a chest bump while Pidge stands to the side rolling her eyes. She doesn’t escape the action though as Hunk snatches her up to spin her in circles.

Keith is laughing freely at Pidge’s squeals of indignation turned glee before he notices Lance barrelling towards him with an arm raised. He flinches in response and manages to throw an arm up in front of himself as a pretty piss poor means of defense. He hears the resounding smack against his palm before he feels it and opens his eyes to see Lance looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his head.

“Hey. Good job today, mullet.” He smiles softly, blue eyes meeting his only briefly before he takes off across the hangar to jump on Hunk’s back.

A familiar weight on his shoulder pulls his attention away from his so called rival and he glances over to see Shiro grinning as he watches the paladins horsing around. “I think that was an olive branch.” The older officer squeezes his shoulder reassuringly and they head for the showers.

Keith’s palm tingles.

 

_______________________

 

"What?"

"Do you want to spar with me?" Keith repeats.

Lance scoffs and crosses his arms. "Why? Because you think you're better than me?"

"Well, I mean I am but you're the one who said you wanted to get better. Shiro suggested it. And it's not like I'm not going to get anything out of it. It's good practice for me too." 

Lance considers this. Keith is good. So he shrugs. "Fine, yeah sure. Don't go easy on me though."

Keith chuckles. "Not a problem."

Lance thinks it may have been a mistake to tell Keith not to go easy on him. Overall, he's keeping up with him punch for punch but Keith is just a hair faster. Where Lance is tall and lanky, Keith is slightly smaller and compact which makes him perfect for being just out of reach of Lance's fists and kicks. Honestly, he's starting to get kind of frustrated. It's not like Keith is throwing insults but he still feels dumb, lesser than. Hand to hand combat is just another thing for Keith to surpass him in.

That particular line of thought pisses him off and he rushes Keith. Keith's eyes widen at the sudden determination in Lance's movements and he's unable to dodge. Lance feels the air leave Keith's lungs with a whoosh and he momentarily feels victorious. It's short-lived though and Keith is glaring at him with renewed vigor. Lance's smirk slides easily off his face when Keith manages to wedge his foot in between their torsos and kicks Lance off of him with a grunt.

He stumbles backwards barely managing to keep his balance. He doesn't have time to wonder about broken ribs before Keith swings his foot around in a sweep and knocks him on his back. His head hits the ground with a heavy thunk and he hisses, eyes squeezing shut tight. He feels a solid weight settle on his body and he cracks an eye open. Keith is staring down at him with a smug grin on his face. Lance throws a fist but it's easily caught along with his other hand and he finds himself completely pinned.

"Fine, you win, you squirrelly little fucker." And then Keith's face breaks out into a huge grin. Dios mio, this boy can smile. Amazing. His face is flushed, sweat beading along his forehead and dripping down his neck. He's smiling so wide that his cheeks force his eyes closed. The pain in Lance's chest fades to something much warmer. Oh. He's...pretty. Nope. Nope. Not going there. Not for his rival. He suddenly notices the position they're in.

Keith is straddling his hips and he wonders why he doesn't feel more embarrassed about having Lance pinned down like he's going to ravish him. No no, don't go down that road. Lance can feel his face burning. He might be in trouble.

 

 

 

_______________________

 

Ah, the butt slap. A symbol of camaraderie, a show of support among bros. Lance grew up in an athletic family. He knows the meaning, or lack thereof, of the common touching of butts which is why he doesn’t think anything of the stinging smack that lands on his backside. It’s also why he doesn’t think twice about passing this gesture of goodwill from Hunk on to the moody paladin walking just ahead of him. Man, he wishes he stopped and considered his actions beforehand sometimes.

Time seems to slow down just after his open hand lands on Keith’s ass. Lance discovers two things in rapid succession. One: Keith has an ass. Sure he’s in good shape, all muscle, but he’s also kind of on the scrawny side. Where has he been stashing this jiggle? All Lance can do is come to a standstill as he stares at the invisible prickling in his palm. He learns the second thing as his shocked eyes drift to meet Keith’s without blinking: Keith does not appreciate the standard sign of a job well done.

“Jesus Christ, Lance, what the hell? Ow, man.” Keith rubs his backside tenderly while glaring daggers at the still stunned boy not seeming to realize the duress that Lance is currently under. Keith stomps away with a shake of his head.

Lance still hasn’t moved and Hunk is starting to give him strange looks that border on concern. He can’t help it. He’s seen this mulleted sarcastic know-it-all smile with the radiance of a thousand suns and now he finds out that he has a booty? Lance wasn’t prepared for this development, god damn it.

 

_______________________

 

It’s almost odd to him sometimes that he had to leave Earth, his entire galaxy behind to feel like he belonged somewhere. He’s exploring an alien planet while Allura, Shiro, and Coran make nice with the local leadership and he has never felt more at home. It’s hard to feel out of place when he and Pidge are excitedly discussing the possibility that the cryptids that most definitely roam the Earth could be aliens. Pidge swears she saw a creature on one of the planets they’d visited that resembled Goatman. Keith had missed it. It haunts him to this day.

Hunk is on the other side of him talking Lance’s ear off about some wildly advanced energy generator he’d seen. Keith doesn’t understand why he always seems so surprised about these things. You think he’d be over it by now. After all, they live in a space castle that travels via wormhole and fight space war in magic robotic lions.

The others like to pick on Keith because he doesn’t seem all that enthused about their current situation but honestly, he constantly gets lost in the newness of it all. He couldn’t feel luckier or more in awe of everything he’s experienced; things people back home couldn’t possibly dream of.

He’s pulled out of his head and away from his conversation by the weight of Lance’s arm around his shoulder. He’s going on about the space babes or something again. Keith rolls his eyes and makes a face at Pidge that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s the matter, Keith? Jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous? That you aren’t inflicting your cheesy lines on me? Pfft, please.”

“No one envies your victims, Lance,” Pidge chimes in. Keith high fives her.

“Alright, we’ll see about that.”

His hand boldly settles on Keith’s waist and tugs him closer while they walk. Keith glances down at the long fingers curled gently into his side before he turns back to Lance’s face and is met with that signature cocky grin.

“Are you wearing space pants? Because your ass is outta this world,” he recites with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Keith opens his mouth to shoot back with something in retaliation but nothing comes out and he can feel himself beginning to blush. He looks away only to steal a look at Lance a second later. Lance’s mouth is pressed into a tight line, red tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Are you done embarrassing yourself?” Keith finally spits out.

Lance manages to keep his face relaxed although it seems to take some effort. “I’m not embarrassed. Are you embarrassed, Keith? Do my charms affect you that much?” 

“Hah,” he barks. “What charm?”

Pidge and Hunk lock eyes behind the boys and raise an eyebrow.

Lance clears his throat and tightens his grip on Keith’s waist. “This is charming. Right?”

Keith eyes Lance with uncertainty. He guesses it must be charming to some people...it's kind of an intimate gesture. He...doesn't hate it. “Uh, yeah. I guess,” he mumbles in response.

Lance looks pointedly away from him for the remainder of the trip back to the ship although his hand never leaves. Keith can feel the burn of fingers in his side for the rest of the night.

 

_______________________

 

The silence makes him anxious. Not that the ship is silent per se. There are the sounds of Shiro fighting his demons on the training deck, Hunk and Coran debating the finer points of alien cooking, and Pidge nagging Allura to teach her to read Altean so she can tinker better. No, true silence had been the time Lance had spent in the healing pod. Even the hush of the desert couldn’t compare to the lack of endless bickering, the unnecessary commentary that served only as a mask for the anxiety Keith would catch glimpses of in the set of a sharp jaw that eased into a confident grin after only a tick.

When Lance had emerged from the pod, Keith couldn’t deny that he’d been relieved. Lance’s presence, however obnoxious, was a constant in this newly uncertain existence. Though he’d been deemed “healed” by the Altean technology and had immediately started cracking jokes, he’d been sent to bed to continue resting despite his protests.

He’d never admit it but he’d been genuinely worried. When he’d seen Lance, confident, overbearing Lance, laid out on the floor in a pile of rubble, his heart had jumped to his throat. He’d managed to keep his face carefully neutral when Hunk had found him sitting in front of the pod at Lance’s feet. He’d blamed it on being unable to sleep, feeling uneasy. He hadn’t lied. Once Lance had left the pod, Pidge had been quick to poke at Keith, telling him he could visit Lance in his room if he’d missed him so much. He’d made an indignant noise and a snappy retort but didn’t miss the quiet smile Shiro had thrown his way.

There was no way he’d be caught dead trying to bond with Lance. Everyone knew how well that had gone the last time which is why he found himself outside of Lance’s room in the middle of the night...or at least what they assumed to be night. Pidge had managed to rig up a rudimentary calendar and clock so they’d have some vague idea of how long they’d been gone from Earth. Keith had merely shrugged, the passing of time making little difference to him but Lance’s face had been pinched in pain at the mention of the many long passed weeks, before being quickly hidden beneath the facade of normalcy.

Keith’s hand rests against the keypad and he holds his breath as the door releases a soft whooshing noise as it slides open. Light leaks into the room from the hallway and he can make out Lance’s dark silhouette in his bed. Keith worries his bottom lip as he hesitates wondering if this had been a bad idea but he feels the need to see Lance, to know he’s still there and that he’s okay.

He pads forward quietly, the light behind him casting a shadow across Lance’s long body. He looks fine. He’s sprawled out on his back, head turned to the side, legs askew under the blanket. Lance’s breathing is soft and Keith notices how loud his heart is beating in his chest. He doesn’t know how the rhythmic pounding hasn’t woken Lance up yet. Keith’s eyes roam across his face and down his body, eyes checking for signs of injury along exposed collarbones even though he won’t find any.

Lance’s hand is hanging palm up off the edge of the bed, blanket only reaching to his forearm. Before he can stop himself, his fingers reach out to brush tentatively across a tanned palm. His eyes dart to Lance’s face but he’s still breathing slowly. Keith notices how long and thin Lance’s arm seems, how slender his fingers are. Has he been eating enough? Keith’s fingers slip easily between Lance’s and he runs his thumb across protruding knuckles. Has he always been this warm? Fingers twitch slightly against his and Keith jerks his hand away, eyes again returning to Lance’s face. But his eyes are closed, mouth still slack. Keith feels his face warming and he suddenly feels stupid. He turns on his heel, hand clenched and tingling.

Lance’s chest feels tight as he watches from beneath his lashes as the black haired figure slips through the door. He wonders what would have happened if he’d squeezed the warm fingers running across his.

 

_______________________

 

Keith’s eye cracks open at the sudden dip in the couch and he frowns. He wants to be irritated but he really isn’t. He should probably wonder why Lance chooses to sit right up against him when there’s a mostly vacant couch but he doesn’t. He’s too tired. And maybe he doesn’t mind all that much. They seem to end up next to each other most of the time anyway.

Neither of them speaks. Lance only crosses his arms and settles back into the couch, elbow brushing against Keith’s, as Shiro, Allura, and Coran start breaking down how the mission went and begin planning the next one.

He’s watching Lance’s head bob out of the corner of his eye and he snorts quietly to himself as Coran goes on about various bonding exercises he’s come up with. It’s almost cute how the blue paladin’s trying to hang onto consciousness despite the physically and mentally strenuous mission they’ve just completed. Not that he thinks Lance is cute. He’s just...not unattractive. And actually pretty funny. And a decent strategist. A funny, decent strategist with nice eyes.

Hardly any time later, Allura’s already called it quits with the lot of them. Every paladin had been struggling to keep their eyes open, Shiro included, although he’d at least shown some shame in it. They’ve all gone their separate ways with the exception of Lance who’s still bobbing and Keith who can’t be bothered to move and is too amused by the display next to him.

He smiles to himself and closes his eyes, replaying the mission in his head, going over attacks and defenses, thinking about how they can be better prepared next time, and not thinking about how he can feel the solid pressure of Lance’s leg against his. Keith’s train of thought is further derailed by a thud on his shoulder.

His eyes fly open at the abrupt contact and he sees Lance’s face, contentedly sleeping, inches from his own. His body tenses but his eyes stay locked on Lance and the sharp slope of his nose dusted with light freckles faded from the lack of sun; long dark eyelashes that sweep the tops of his cheekbones. Keith’s eyes drift down and linger on his hands, ears blushing red when he thinks about how he’d held them so tenderly weeks ago.

Lance’s body is pressed flush against his side and heat seeps in from his shoulder down along his thigh. The rest of Keith’s body suddenly craves warmth. His muscles are starting to relax but instantly tense again when he notices Shiro lingering in the doorway. He’s smiling like he knows something Keith doesn’t.

“I can wake him up if you want. You should both probably get some real sleep in an actual bed.”

Keith fidgets with the edge of his shirt with his unoccupied arm. “No, it’s okay. Just a few more minutes. I don’t mind,” he answers quietly so he doesn’t disturb the boy laying on him. He looks away wondering if Shiro was gifted with a way of reading minds in addition to his prosthetic but Shiro only nods in acknowledgment and heads off for his own room to settle down for the night.

The steady breaths near his ear are hypnotic and his eyelids feel heavy as lead. Keith does a bleary eyed check around the room before he gives in to temptation and gently rests his cheek against the top of Lance’s head. He thinks he should feel awkward but that thought is subdued by steadily growing darkness and ‘soft.’

At some point, he’s subconsciously aware of someone draping a blanket over them but he’s sleeping too well for once to be all that curious or embarrassed about being found curled up with Lance on the couch.

It’s the best he’s slept in years.

 

  

_______________________

 

It’s a monotonous task. Repetitive. Something he can focus his attention and energy on. Some people knit. Others run or wash dishes. Lance braids hair. Simple as that. It had started as a way to help his mother out at home. He grew up with older and younger sisters and now had nieces and nephews to practice his skills on.

His fingers are moving nimbly through Allura’s thick white hair, crossing even strands over and over, when Keith enters the large shared room. His hair is damp from the shower. He’d likely been on the training deck for an unnecessarily long amount of time as per usual. It takes him a moment before he fully takes in the spectacle before him.

Pidge’s bangs are arranged into a thick braid that lies across her forehead like a crown. Lance is almost surprised she’d sat for him to do it. She looks kind of adorable though he’d never say that to her face.

Keith’s eyes shift to Shiro and Keith snorts, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips although he seems to be trying to fight it. Shiro’s forelock has been corralled into a messy French braid, tufts of white poking out at all angles. Even Lance hadn’t managed to keep a straight face though the leader had been a good sport about it.

“What is happening right now?” Keith manages to ask Shiro through a series of chuckles.

“Hey, hey, none of that. You run yourself ragged training and Lance, well, this is Lance’s thing. This is team bonding right here. We are building connections.”

Keith holds it together even though he can’t keep his eyes off of Shiro’s hair. It's pretty silly looking. “Yeah, okay.”

Lance follows Keith out of the corner of his eye as the other boy moves to stand behind him and watch Lance work.

“Don’t say a word, Keith. I don’t need your snarky comments. This is just what I do, man.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he says defensively. Lance hums but doesn’t argue further. Keith seems to be entranced by his actions and doesn’t speak again until he’s nearly done. “I uh…you can do mine too. If you want,” he finishes quietly, eyes cast down to the floor.

Lance falters in his movements for just a moment, surprised by the lack of sarcastic retort. It’s certainly not what he’s expecting and suddenly maybe this isn’t such a relaxing task after all. Not with the way his pulse picks up slightly. He clears his throat before he responds, pulling that wry smile back onto his face.

“Volunteering the mullet, eh? How very generous of you.”

He can practically feel Keith’s scowl burning through the back of his head.

“Ass.” He hears muttered behind him although Keith makes no move to leave.

He finishes the fishtail braid quickly and secures the ends with gold rings Allura had provided him. They glint brightly against the cool tone of her hair.

“All done, Princess,” he smiles warmly. Allura stands and pulls the braid over her shoulder to admire the handiwork.

“Oh my. Lance, it’s beautiful. I love it.” Her smile is wide and genuine. Lance beams at her. The other paladins take turns ooh-ing and aah-ing over the braid and Lance’s chest swells. Maybe it’s a dumb thing to take pride in but it’s his thing. His thing that brings him inner peace and reminds him of home.

Lance swivels his head towards Keith and taps the couch in front of him. “You’re up, mullet.”

Keith comes around and plants himself on the floor between Lance’s legs. The width of Keith’s shoulders pushes his legs farther apart at the thighs. He’s tense but then again, Keith is always tense. Body prepared to spring into action at any given notice.

The sudden proximity makes him nervous and his hands rake uncertainly through dark unruly hair. It’s soft. He’d never thought much about it but Keith’s hair is silky to the touch, fine. It reminds him of his nephew, Mateo’s. Josefina had been letting his hair grow long before he’d left. He wonders momentarily if she’d cut it yet before pushing the thought out of his head. 

He runs his fingers through Keith’s hair once more and makes a small noise of approval.

“What is it?” Keith questions.

Lance shakes his head. “Nothing. Just, mullet jokes aside, you have really nice hair.”

“Oh,” is the soft reply after a moment.

Long fingers deftly part the shaggy hair down the middle. It might be cruel but Lance has a special plan for Keith’s hair. It’s a style he’s done for many a soccer game and cheer practice. He starts on the right, a French braid pulling the strands of hair in and he continues until the loose ends are braids as well. He feels Keith begin to relax and slump a bit against his thighs.

When Lance runs his fingers through the mess of hair on the left, he feels the shiver run down Keith’s spine in his legs. He repeats the motion to see if he can get Keith to do it again. He can.

He smiles to himself enjoying the reaction he’s able to get out of him. His rival. The boy that held his hand thinking Lance was asleep. He pulls the hair near Keith’s temple and Keith, well, Keith moans. Lance had not been prepared for that particular reaction. His fingers still in inky hair, mouth open in a small “o”. Keith has gone rigid but hasn’t said a word. Meanwhile, Lance is trying to keep the blush off his face. It had been such an unexpected noise and while not particularly loud or...explicit in nature, Lance’s mind was beginning to wander down a dangerous path. He deflects the only way he knows how.

“Wow, enjoying this, huh?”

Keith hesitates and he has an irritated look on his face. “Yes,” he replies tersely.

And...that had not been the response Lance was expecting. He was certain Keith would come back with some kind of snappy denial but no, not this time. Lance can only stare wide-eyed, unable to get his fingers to resume their action. Keith bumps his head against Lance’s hands gently as if to urge him to continue.

He does. The tips of Keith’s ears are bright red.

 

_______________________

 

The clatter of a red helmet hitting the ground catches everyone’s attention. Lance’s triumphant grin drops as Keith stalks towards him, hair a mess across his face. Good. That mouth had been pissing him off. His body seems to move of its own accord as he shoves Lance sharply in the chest. Lance makes a surprised noise and everyone stops talking excitedly.

“Keith,” Shiro says with calm authority. It’s the voice he uses when he knows Keith is about to take things too far; when his rage threatens to boil over and wreak havoc on anything and anyone too close in proximity.

“Are you fucking stupid?” he snarls, clawing at the collar of Lance’s suit. His knuckles are white against the black fabric. It’s almost painful how tight his grip is.

Hunk yells an angry “hey” from the side but Pidge throws her arm out in front of him.

Lance’s eyes narrow and light with an answering ferocity. “Sorry you weren’t the one to step up and save the day, asshole. No big deal. Just wasn’t your time to shine,” he smirks.

Keith feels like bile is crawling up his throat. His blood is hot beneath his skin and he’s never felt so infuriated and so...terrified. He notices for the first time that his hands are shaking. Vaguely, he feels the prick of tears behind his eyes and he grits his teeth before dragging Lance down to his level. There’s a soft knock as their foreheads meet and Keith can’t focus on anything but the deep blue eyes flickering across his face questioningly. He suddenly feels overwhelmingly exhausted. He’s burned out and Lance seems to pick up on the change in his demeanor, fire retreating as quickly as it had come. Keith closes his eyes against the sting.

“You could have died.” His voice comes out barely more than a hoarse whisper, cracking softly on the last word.

Lance looks away at that and pulls back. Keith’s fingers hold for only a second before they release the suit. “But I didn’t,” he mumbles glaring at the floor.

Keith’s eyebrows furrow and when he opens his eyes, they’re glassy. He needs to leave. “That’s not the point, Lance.” He almost expects more of an argument but Lance’s face looks too stunned and no one tries to stop him as he leaves the hangar with his head hanging, eyes burning.

  

_______________________

 

He’s never been much of a sleeper. Muffled crying had kept him awake as he was shuffled between foster homes. Burying his head beneath his pillow couldn’t completely stifle the excited whispers of his fellow cadets as he sought sleep at the Garrison. Even the calm quiet of the cool desert couldn't cure his restlessness.

In his nearly two decades of life, he can recall only a handful of moments when he’d woken up and didn’t feel like death; the most recent of those moments being trapped beneath Lance’s worn out body on the couch. He’d radiated heat and the body leaned against his had brought with it some sense of reassuring comfort which was odd. He’d never considered Lance particularly reassuring.

Keith rolled over, eyes staring into the darkness of his empty room. He’s so tired. His insomnia was finally catching up to him. He imagines being pressed up against Lance, trying to remember the pressure but thoughts of Lance make his chest ache, his recklessness still fresh. Keith had never apologized for his outburst but why should he? His thoughts from earlier play on a loop in his head. Lance could have died. He could have died. He swallows the small lump in his throat he hadn’t noticed was building. His room is too dark. It’s too quiet.

Before he can over think his actions too much, or think at all really, he kicks his blankets off and steps barefoot into the stark brightness of the hallway, moving quietly towards Lance’s room. It’s reminiscent of the first time he’d gone to Lance in the middle of the night. Tonight though, there’s no worry. Just irritation at idiotic actions and an overwhelming need to sleep next to a familiar presence.

Keith can hear the faintest hint of music in the room and sees the oversized headphones resting on Lance’s ears. He must be too exhausted to care about his actions at this point as he flings the blankets back. Lance yelps at the intrusion of cool air as Keith starts nudging him over without a word.

“Keith?!” he gasps as eyes find his in the dark.

“Move over,” Keith mumbles.

“What?” Lance has pushed his headphones to the side and is looking at Keith like he has three heads. Keith feels like he might be losing some of his nerve.

“Just...move over,” he repeats softly. He kneels onto the bed, legs sliding under pre-warmed blankets as Lance scoots over without any further protests, confusion and maybe concern etched plainly on his face. Keith stays silent, glad for the darkness as he feels the blush crawling up his neck when he realizes that Lance is shirtless. He rests his head on the pillow with his back to Lance hoping he won’t say anything. He can feel the tension in the air and Keith doesn’t blame him. A few hours ago, he was screaming in Lance’s face about how stupid he was, how he could have gotten himself killed.

He takes a deep breath and reaches behind him blindly, finding Lance’s wrist easily enough. Lance makes a startled noise but lets Keith pull his arm across his body. A few moments pass where Keith feels like he might not be able to breathe, that he’s just made a horribly embarrassing mistake. But then he feels the tension leave Lance’s body, the stiff arm tightens around his waist and drags him so he’s pulled close against a hard chest.

He can feel Lance’s quickened breaths against his back and knows for a fact that the other boy can feel his pounding heartbeat. They lay in the quiet of the dark while they calm down, pulses slowing gradually. Keith’s hand makes it’s way down to Lance’s. Lance’s fingertips tickle when they brush across his belly as he breathes.

Keith slots their fingers together, noting how Lance’s don’t seem nearly as thin as they did the last time he’d done this. His chest feels tight again and Lance has gone still behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He feels Lance’s breathing restart and the press of a cold nose against his neck.

“Me too,” Lance murmurs, lips brushing lightly against the skin not hidden beneath the collar of his shirt.

Keith takes to slipping into Lance’s room most nights after lights out.

 

_______________________

 

Lance can feel the soft sand sifting between his toes, the salty breeze blowing through his hair, and the warmth of the sun kissing his skin. He can even hear the sound of his nieces and nephews laughing as they splash in the ocean. It’s like he’s back on Varadero Beach. Back home. It simultaneously fills his chest and breaks his heart. It’s all bittersweet.

Allura and Coran had encouraged the paladins to bond in all ways with their lions. Maintaining a physical, mental, and emotional connection made them stronger individually which only served to make them stronger as a team. He’d never anticipated the life Blue could bring to his memories. She made them tangible when he could feel them fading a little around the edges. He’d been terrified at the realization that time was passing, so much time. There was no end in sight. These moments of clarity though soothed him.

He releases the memory slowly, letting it ebb away before opening his eyes. His heart jumps into his throat and his body jerks not expecting to have company in such tight quarters. Keith is perched on Blue’s control panel, legs crossed, chin resting in his hand.

“Holy shit! You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Keith replies without any hint of remorse. His eyes glint with amusement. “Just came to check on you. You’ve been out here for a while. I didn’t want to disturb you though. You looked so...happy.”

“Did I?” Lance settles back into his seat now that he’s no longer under threat of a heart attack.

Keith hums and picks at a loose thread in his pant leg. “What were you thinking about?”

Lance shrugs. He always feels a little awkward or...selfish talking about his family around Keith since he knows the fond memories of Earth and familial ties aren’t exactly mutual. He rubs his neck and smiles a little sadly. “The beach.” 

“Tell me about it,” Keith requests, his chin settling back into his palm. His violet eyes are soft and roam across Lance’s face.

“I’ve talked your ear off about it enough already." 

Keith shrugs. “Tell me anyway.”

So he does. He talks about white sand and clear azure waters. About the festivals and live music and kicking a ball around in the parks. He laughs about sneaking onto resort property with his older siblings to mingle with the tourists. Laughs until there are tears in his eyes and his cheeks hurt as he recounts tales of the troubles he got into.

When he stops chuckling and wipes the unshed tears away, Keith is staring at him fondly. His lips are curved up into a smile and his eyes are lit up. He’s beautiful.

Without a word, Keith slips off the control panel and closes the distance between them, hesitating for a moment before reseating himself in Lance’s lap in a straddle. Lance is reminded of the last time he found himself in this position, the bright smile of a victorious boy leaning over him. His heart is hammering just the same as it had been then. But this time, Lance’s hands settle easily on the slender waist, thumbs rubbing small circles into soft flesh.

Keith’s tongue flicks out over his lips and Lance can’t look anywhere else. He wants to lean in so badly but he’s learned to be patient and let Keith give as little or as much as he wants. It’s the reason Keith can look at him with a face so open, so unguarded. A look that used to be granted only to Shiro.

Lance licks his lips reflexively, eyes flicking between the gentle gaze and plump mouth. He sees Keith’s eyes lower and then Keith is leaning in, lips pressed against his. It’s all very...him. Soft and warm but a little rough around the edges. When their mouths start to move, Lance can feel where Keith’s lips are chapped but he doesn’t care. He’s on fire. Hands curl into his short hair and he can’t help but moan into the sweet mouth that opens to him. Lance’s arms wrap around Keith’s middle, pulling him close as Keith begins to kiss him in earnest, almost desperate. But then he slows and pulls away slowly. Lance’s mind is fried.

“What was that all about?” he asks a little breathlessly. He can barely look at Keith. His face is flushed and Lance can’t help but want to kiss him again. He’ll never get enough now that he’s had a taste.

Keith quirks an eyebrow at him, devious grin turning a little shy. “Bonding with you physically.”

“Oh my god. Keith.” Lance runs a hand down his flustered face. “That was a good one. Very clever. Now bond with me more.”

Keith laughs before Lance pulls him back in.

 

_______________________

 

It’s late, or early depending on how you want to look at it, when he feels Lance slip out of bed leaving a warm empty spot Keith quickly nuzzles into. When more time than necessary for a trip down the hall to the bathrooms passes, he pokes his head out from under the heavy blanket and can feel in his gut that something is off. There’s no point in trying to sleep anyway, not now that he’s grown accustomed to a solid warmth to curl up against; a warmth that presses kisses to his shoulders, twines their fingers together in the dark, murmurs sweet nothings against his lips in between hushed cries and swallowed moans.

He leaves the room groggy and checks Lance’s suspected haunts but finds no one in the baths, kitchen, or common space. The training deck is silent as well. Keith grows a little more worried at this. There’s a reason Lance has gone out of his way to not be easily stumbled upon regardless of the hour and Keith has a good idea of the cause.

Ever since Pidge had brought it to everyone’s attention that according to her calendar, it was nearing December, Lance hadn’t been quite right. The smiles were tighter, jokes slower to leave his mouth. He put on a decent act but Keith could see straight through him. He could see the cracks in his carefully crafted facade.

He makes his way up one of the many winding staircases to the observation deck. It’s a large bubble of a room, all glass so every star can be seen in whatever direction you look. It’s one of Lance’s favorite places on the ship. Keith’s too.

He finds Lance sitting on the floor, knees pulled up under his chin, arms wrapped tight around his legs. Keith can see the shine of tear stains by the glow of the stars.

“Lance?” his voice comes out soft and Lance turns his head away and sniffs. “Lance, are you okay?” Keith takes a few slow steps forward.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to wake you up.” He glances over to Keith with red rimmed eyes. “Guess I failed. Sorry.” He tries to shoot him a sheepish smile but it only comes out looking pained.

Keith isn’t having it and the closer he gets the closer the tears in Lance’s eyes look to spilling over but he can’t help it. Lance’s lower lip is trembling and Keith can tell his jaw is clenched tight in a valiant effort to hold it together in front of him. But it’s too much.

When Keith sinks to his knees, arms wrapping around shuddering shoulders, the thread of control Lance has breaks and tears are streaming down his face. He fists his hands into Keith’s shirt clinging to him with all he has, sobs choking out of him, muffled in Keith’s shoulder. He falls apart and it breaks Keith’s heart. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s not even good with handling his own emotions. All he can do is be an anchor for Lance to cling to. He ignores the pain in his knees from kneeling and strokes soft brown hair. He leans his cheek on Lance’s head, turning to kiss his temple every so often. Keith pours every ounce of affection he can into Lance until the sobs diminish to a slow trickle of tears and the only sounds are quiet hiccups and Keith’s gentle shushes.

Lance pushes away. The wet spot on Keith’s chest is cold without a face buried in it. He avoids Keith’s gaze as he wipes away his tears with his sleeve. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“I knew it was bothering you. You’re terrible at hiding things from me. You always have been.”

Lance grimaces. “My family probably thinks I’m dead. I hadn’t realized it’d been that long. I mean...it sounds stupid to bring it up when we have bigger things to worry about like protecting the universe but...it’s almost Christmas. And I’m not there. Who knows what bullshit the Garrison fed them? No one knows we’re here. Our families have no idea.”

Keith bites at the inside of his cheek. Sure no one knows where they are but to be honest, he hadn’t really thought about it. The difference between him and his teammates is that they have people to worry about them. People who will mourn their disappearance. Keith is no one. Keith has no one.

He swallows that thought for Lance’s sake. “It’s not stupid. We didn’t ask for this. We didn’t volunteer.”

Lance shrugs. “Still. We’re here now and we have a job to do. I shouldn’t be worried about missing Christmas.” He pulls at the ear on his blue lion slipper. “It’s just weird to think I’m not going to be there.” He sighs and stands suddenly, offering a hand to Keith. “Come on. I’ve kept you up long enough. I’m okay. Let’s go back to bed.”

Keith takes his hand and nods, wincing at the dull ache in his knees. He glances at Lance out of the corner of his eye. He does seem better but the gears in Keith’s mind are turning.

 

_______________________

 

If he’s being honest, Keith really isn’t one for the holidays. Coming from a series of foster families, the celebration of Christmas, if there even was one, tended to change year to year. He knows the gist of it of course. The tree, the presents, Santa Claus, something about stockings, and cookies. He’s not sure what he’s capable of doing in deep space but he knows he’s desperate to do something, anything for Lance if it means making him happy and soothing the ache in his chest.

Which is how he finds himself scouring the castle for supplies while everyone else is otherwise occupied. He’d considered stealing Hunk’s socks (they’re the largest) for the purpose of stuffing them with...something? What goes in stockings anyway? He writes that idea off as pretty stupid and extremely lame. Maybe kind of smelly.

Instead, Keith settles on getting a Christmas tree. From space. Lugging some kind of foreign foliage on board doesn’t seem to be convenient however and he nearly scraps that thought completely until he finds a stash of spare pipes in a room in the bottom of the ship long forgotten. This, this he can use. Hopefully.

They’ve already discussed celebrating Christmas as a team and have convinced Allura to give them just one day to relax and arrange something to remind them of home. She hadn’t been particularly difficult to convince. She and Coran are quite curious about the traditions on Earth after all. And now Keith has a deadline.

Welding a wide flat piece of heavy scrap metal to a long length of pipe had earned him strange looks from Pidge and a raised eyebrow from Shiro, but neither of them seemed to care too much after a mumbled excuse of “something for training.” After managing to sneak off with a spool of wire Hunk had lying around, Keith is able to wire varying lengths of pipe perpendicular to the center pole of his garbage tree. The spare pipes span wider at the bottom and taper off as they get closer to the top as a way of creating branches. It’s really not too terrible looking if he does say so himself.

It’s only after he’s done rigging up his metal monstrosity that he remembers the other things that go along with a Christmas tree. Namely the star, ornaments, and presents to go underneath. This could prove a more challenging undertaking than he originally thought. He wants it to be perfect. Lance is putting on a brave face and seems to be genuinely excited to spend Christmas in the castle but Keith notices the way Lance holds him tighter at night, hears the sniffs Lance tries to hide in his pillow. Keith might not have fond memories of Christmas, but this is for Lance. He needs this.

*

“Where the hell is all the silverware? I know we have more than this,” Hunk complains one morning. Keith keeps his eyes locked on his food and doesn’t say a word.

*

“Hey, uh, can I borrow some of these?” Keith asks gesturing to a bucket of small work lamps Pidge keeps around to use when she needs to light up small spaces.

Pidge narrows her eyes knowing that he’s up to something. “Suuuure. Whatcha doin’, Keith?”

He grabs the bucket and keeps his face devoid of emotion. “Just...working on something.”

“Mhm.”

He sighs. “I’ll show it to you when I’m done.”

“That’s all I ask.”

*

“Where do you keep disappearing to at night?” Lance asks one morning. His hair is stuck up on one side of his head and it’s incredibly endearing.

“Insomnia is coming back. That’s all. I take walks around the castle until I feel sleepy again.”

Lance huffs and lays across his chest. “You could wake me up to walk with you, you know,” he grumbles.

“You don’t need to suffer too. Besides what would you do without your beauty sleep?” Keith replies as he winds his arms around Lance’s waist.

“Who needs beauty sleep when you’re already this good looking?”

Keith laughs. “Hmm, true.”

*

It’s the night before Christmas and all through the ship, all the paladins were sleeping except for Keith who is busy trying to figure out how the hell to get this Christmas tree creation up to the observation deck. He finally settles on having to take it apart and transport it in pieces. Having taken care of the heavy lifting, he’s left with decorating and wrapping the gifts. Gifts being things he’s temporarily borrowed from everyone to be opened and reclaimed on Christmas morning.

The presents include and are not limited to: Hunk’s trademark headband which has been missing for nearly a week. Hunk’s getting pretty pissed off. Keith bets he’ll be happy to have it back. From Lance he’s abducted the blue lion slippers he adores so much. Seriously, as soon as they’re back from a mission, Lance kicks off his boots and slips into his lions. It’s kind of adorable. He couldn’t bear to steal those away until tonight. Same with Pidge’s laptop. He’d only refrained from taking that until the last minute because he knew it would mean certain death otherwise. No one gets between Pidge and her tech. From Coran he’d taken his mustache oils. Coran had blamed Lance for their absence solely for the reason that Lance is the only other person who could appreciate such luxurious hygiene routines. That had been an amusing argument to watch. “I can’t even grow a mustache!” Lance had shouted. Decent defense. No regrets there.

Allura and Shiro had been much harder to gift for. Steal for? Borrow for. Keith hadn’t felt comfortable invading Allura’s private rooms and Shiro honestly had nothing special with him for Keith to wrap. He’d landed back on Earth in Galra prison garb which was immediately discarded and then he’d been dragged right back to space without time for him to do anything for himself.

After careful consideration, for Allura he’d settled on going the puppy route but without the puppies because...space. He’s managed to get across to the castle mice that he wants to hide them in a box poked full of holes so they can pop out and surprise her. It’s going to be really cute, okay? Shiro gets a black bayard handcrafted from the finest scrap metal by Keith himself. It’s absolutely useless but it’ll go well with Shiro’s goofy “blam blam” noises.

He’s pretty satisfied with his work as he gives the tree one last glance. This must be the feeling kids have when they wake up on Christmas morning and run to their parents’ room to wake them up and drag them out of bed. Keith considers waiting until morning but he can’t. He really can’t. Besides, he wants to have time to spend alone with Lance in front of this ridiculous tree.

“Lance. Lance! Wake up!” Keith grabs his shoulder and shakes. Sleeping beauty mumbles in response, rolling over to face the wall, curled up in the fetal position.

“Lance, come on!” Keith feels like a child and it makes him smile wide. He jumps up on bed and Lance slides into the dip by his feet.

“Oh my god, what is happening? Who are you and what have you done with my broody ass boyfriend?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Keith feels giddy.

Lance looks at him like he’s internally debating whether this mysterious surprise is worth leaving bed for. Ultimately, it seems that his curiosity has won when he pushes himself upright and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Where are my slippers?”

“Don’t worry about your slippers.”

“My feet are cold.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Ugh, just put on socks then. Let’s go!”

“Better be a damn good surprise,” Lance mutters under his breath as he pulls on discarded socks from yesterday.

*

Lance is rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he’s dragged down the halls. He’s hardly paying attention to where he’s going. He doesn’t really care unless their final destination is a bed. He vaguely wonders why they’re headed for the observation deck. Maybe there’s a cool piece of space junk floating past the glass windows that just couldn’t wait.

When they enter the room, Lance quickly notices that the stars aren’t the only source of illumination. He stops dead in his tracks when his eyes run across a metal structure...a sculpture? in the middle of the room. It’s made of pipes and is covered in small work lights that make it gleam.

There are all kinds of things hanging from the metal limbs. Glittering trinkets Keith had purchased on one of the planets they’d visited, Rover is perched at the top, and...is that silverware? On the floor underneath this thing are various parcels wrapped in scrap paper and discarded blueprints. Lance’s eyes go wide.

“Is this…? Did you make a Christmas tree?” He sounds breathless.

He glances at Keith to see him digging the toe of his red lion slipper into the floor, eyes cast downward. “Yeah.”

“Did you make it for me?”

Keith nods. “Yeah.”

Lance smiles and can feel his eyes watering. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this overwhelmed before. His body feels warm all over and his chest feels ready to burst. He scoops Keith up in his arms and Keith is laughing and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

*

“I can’t believe you stole all the forks and spoons to hang on the tree,” Lance scoffs.

Keith blushes and buries his face in his arms. “Shut up. Minor details. If you tap them they kind of jingle like bells. This is what I had to work with, man.” Lance laughs in his ear.

“I still can’t believe you did this.” The words are uttered in hushed awe.

“I know it’s not the same as being with your family and it could never compare but–“

Lance cuts him off. “Shh, I love it.” He pauses and dips his head into the crook of Keith’s neck. “I love you,” he whispers.

Keith feels his body tense and he hates that that is his reaction because he can feel Lance stiffen as well. He’s just...no one has ever told him that before. He doesn’t think he’s capable of looking at Lance’s face right now but he needs to know. Lance needs to know that he feels the same. He takes Lance’s hand and presses a kiss to his open palm. “I love you too,” he murmurs, lips brushing Lance’s fingers. He feels Lance release the breath he’d been holding against his collarbone.

They’re sitting on the floor with their backs to the large window, the work lights cast a warm glow on their faces. Keith is between Lance’s sprawled out legs, leaned back against his chest, all wrapped up in long tan arms. He can’t think of any place he’d rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you love the art as much as I do, please find it on Ev's tumblr here: [Ridiculously Sweet Art](http://evannly.tumblr.com/post/154917042881/a-touch-of-christmas-written-by-princedeadend)
> 
> Come scream with us on tumblr! We're great at screaming!
> 
> Writer: [princedeadend](http://princedeadend.tumblr.com/)  
> Artist: [Evannly](https://evannly.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And of course, feel free to leave feedback and comments below. It's so encouraging when you do.


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